Maple 60 minute Challenge
by Eykiel
Summary: Collection of oneshots for the Maple 60mins challenge on twitter. Each piece is themed according to the theme of the day, and written in 60 minutes or less. A jumble of pairings, characters, emotions and the like, depending on my whims.
1. Music

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Sunday, June 29 is "**Music**".

Written in 54 minutes.

:

* * *

As the master connoisseur of all things fine and precious, with a keen eye for skill and an even sharper ear for only the most beautiful of music, Phantom could say objectively and without bias that the greatest musician to ever roam the vast lands of Maple World — was Aria.

But then again, Phantom was in love.

He had decided this when he first landed on her balcony. To steal the glimmering gem known as the Skaia, of course. It was all pre-planned: he would unpick the magic lock of her window, slip inside, mask the weight of his footsteps so he wouldn't trigger any traps, glide past her dresser, unseal the box with the Skaia encapsulated within, and then make like a nightingale out the window.

If she was awake, he would charm her with his wit, misguide her gaze with a fancy light show or two, offer her a brilliant smile and a deep red rose of his own magic, and while her attention was turned for even the slightest of seconds, he would have the Skaia.

Two out of the million and one plans he had already planned. But he hadn't counted on hearing her laugh as his feet touched the smooth marble of her balcony.

'Hello, Master Thief.'

Her voice swept him off his feet. No, her voice knocked all the sense from him.

No. Her voice was addictive. Like a drug, like the first droplets of rain after a drought. It reminded him of gentle snowflakes drifting to the ground from the vast skies under a gentle, calming blue sky, of the first rays of the sun after a winter storm. Of starry diamonds falling from the dark velvet skies and tinkling onto the balcony, into the puddle of his heart around his shoes.

'Empress,' he found his tongue to say, his heart was suddenly hammering in his chest, a violent rhythm that jarred against the smooth melody of her voice, 'What an opportunity to catch you here, alone, unsupervised, unprotected, this late at night.'

'Curiosity kept me up and waiting for your arrival, Master Thief.' The Empress smiled. The gentle notes of her voice lifted his heart another octave higher.

With grace and a certain, confident dignity, the Empress glided silently over to him. Robes of silky moonlight trailed behind her, overlaid by threads of finest gold Phantom would love to sink his fingers into. He had to fight the compulsion to slide to his knees.

'Please, Empress. Call me Phantom. I apologise for having kept you waiting, it was both ungentlemanly and impolite of me. Rest assured, I was trying my best to strike within the week, as I am known for, but you had doubled the guards watching the perimeter of your palace and I decided to stay my hand.'

'Understandable.' She hummed as Phantom took her hand and dropped a chaste kiss on the back. She smelled of milk and roses. 'A wise decision. I will have to speak to the head of my security, though, since you still managed to land here unscratched despite the council's initial fears.'

'Can I plead for mercy on his behalf? It is, as they say, impossible to catch me, much less prevent my coming. It has become an event of great luck to even see my silhouette.'

'How confident, Master Thief. Gracious, too, but no. You conveniently decided to come on the day the chief pulled some troops out to inspect a weakened barrier south of Ereve.'

The Empress pulled away and Phantom had to school his expression carefully. He didn't let his gaze dart towards the interior even though the temptation to look for the little velvet box was almost overwhelming. 'I see. How unfortunate. As a gentleman I know better than to intrude on a lady's privacy, and as a Master Thief I know all my openings have long been closed and you are simply humoring me to see how far I will take my luck, tonight.'

'Acute,' observed the Empress, her smile growing.

This was all a game, but it was beautiful. It was a slow choreographed waltz and they were twisting in to one another and not step on each others' shoes. It was an orchestra, Phantom trying to fight for his solo and the Empress calmly directing her baton elsewhere. It was a duet, even, their voices sliding carefully in and out of harmony in the still midsummer night.

It was three days later that they met again. Phantom, with another rose, and Aria with a new installment on her balcony: an intricately carved table, a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Phantom didn't remember what they talked about. Only a few things stayed with him. That Aria had gone back inside to get a vase for the rose he offered her, that he felt like a bird, caught in an updraft, soaring higher and higher towards the silver face of the moon, and that Aria's voice warmed something deep inside him, something that he had thought he'd buried and suffocated under a pile of heavy gold and jewelry.

If hearts could fly, Phantom's did. Time flew by, his hopes soared, fluttering eagerly in the wind like his cape while he perched on the railing of her balcony, counting down the seconds until she appeared, like he was counting off the beats to his favorite song.

'Please, call me Aria,' the Empress of Maple World, the gem of the people, the holy child of Ereve said to him one day. They were seated on the floor, Aria curled into his shoulder while his heart drummed so furiously in his chest he was certain she could hear it. He watched her fingertips dart about the golden buttons of his uniform like she was about to begin playing the most intricate of sonatas there.

'I will only call you that if you let me call you mine.'

Phantom did not get any of the replies he expected. He did not get an affirmation, or a laugh, or a frown. There was only silence, a break in a long melody, though between the strands of the hair that could be spun out of the sun, he could see that she was smiling.

They stayed like that for a long time, entwined and almost like lovers but not quite, yet still enough, for Phantom. The stars themselves seemed to dance for them, thousands upon thousands of mirages that glittered, silent applause to their silent song.

How could Phantom ever have enough?

As perhaps the only man who had ever held so much of Aria's precious trust, with an eagerness to make her smile and an even greater desire to hear her laugh, Phantom would tell anyone fervently and without hesitation that the greatest treasure to ever grace his vast hoard of riches — was a song.

It was titled 'Aria', and he loved to feel it roll off his tongue, accompanied by the taste of her lips, the harmony of her breaths against his cheek, the percussion of her heart beating against him.

But then again, Phantom was in love.


	2. Tino

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Monday, June 30 is "**Tino**".

Written in 44 minutes.

:

* * *

Life is simple.

You awake when the great motherbird does, her soft feathery frame shifts and she lets out a yawn. The dawn light scatters your dreams of little worms and wildflowers and your siblings all roll over everybird in their wake, you included. You tumble out into the golden sunbeams, a ruffled bundle, and you glare at everyone but they're already on the lookout for the morning's breakfast of bugs that are too late to find the cover of the grasses after the night has passed.

You, however, know a different more delicious breakfast.

The island is already a bustle of activity. You keep to the bushes lest a wayward human finds you and thinks you're easy prey (of course you aren't! You'll grow up to be a big strong bird one day!) and you really don't want to end up with a fireball chasing you or a bolt of lightning sent your way. When nobody is looking, and when all your brotherbirds and sisterbirds have finally gone and taking their cheeps and chirps with them, you hop back to the motherbird.

She looks down at you, eyes kind.

"Cygnus will be coming soon, little one. You're the most alert of the lot."

You puff up at the praise. Shinsoo blows air at the lone feather peeking from your head and it makes you laugh.

Cygnus. This strange word is what the motherbird calls that little human that comes here every morning. You sit on the motherbird's feet as you wait, surrounded by fluffy down feathers. Shinsoo hums. Her singing is beautiful. One day you want to hum like that too, for now you are content to listen.

"Empress. Good morning."

_Good morning, Shinsoo. All is well, I trust? _

"Indeed. How did your meeting with the Knights go? I heard about the disturbance in Victoria Island and I hope the council is dealing with it adequately."

The human child is here, accompanied by the human adult. The child reminds you of honey, while the adult reminds you of the skies. With one last cheep of thanks to motherbird Shinsoo, you hop over to the white table and blink up as innocently as you can.

_More than adequately, Shinsoo. Fret not. _The girl laughs when you nudge her shoes with your beak. _Hello again, Tino! There aren't the strawberry pancakes you enjoy so much, today. But I did bring a strawberry for you._

The red fruit she offers you is plump and cold but so sweet, sweeter than the firebugs that you have to jump to snatch out of the air when twilight falls. You chirp your appreciation and pick off the seeds, one by one.

_Don't feed the tino, Princess. Soon the whole horde of them will come._

_Oh, don't be so stuffy, Neinheart. He's the only one appearing here for months. I'm pretty sure he wants his little breakfast to be a secret._

The human with hair like the sky leans down and peers at you and you chirp in indignation when he brings his face too close. Doesn't he know that even tino need their personal space? You flap your wings and puff up, trying to intimidate him off, and good thing he snorts and pulls away.

_He doesn't seem to like me._

_Of course not. You wouldn't like a giant inspecting you from so close up, would you?_

The sky-haired human grumbles sourly as you finish the last chunk of strawberry. Brotherbirds and sisterbirds would be jealous. Everyone likes strawberries. But brotherbirds usually come back with bad stories about humans. Nobody likes humans. They'd say you were insane for being so close.

But this human with voice and hair like honey can't be bad. She doesn't carry a sword or arrows. And she feeds you every morning.

_Look, Neinheart. I bet it's lonely._

You click rapidly in slight panic when human hands wrap around you. Are you going to die? Did you misjudge it?

The little honeyed human is holding you. The touch is gentle. Her skin is very soft, almost as soft as Shinsoo's feathers but equally as calming. You make a little _peep_ at her to tell her to be gentle before making the best of the situation. Her hands are warm, so you don't mind.

See? You knew it. The little human is okay.

_You have a way with animals that I definitely lack, your highness. _

_Oh, no need for formalities now, Neinheart. Nobody's around. And I don't have many opportunities to relax since the Black Wings have stepped up its war efforts. _

This is really relaxing. You could get used to the human picking you up more often.

_Ah, if you stroke here, look, here. Behind its feather. It likes being soothed like this._

_I'd sooner have dropped it on the ground and finished eating my breakfast. _

_You can watch me play with it then. It's very soft, like my own plush toy. _You feel her arms snake around you and fluff up, content to stay there.

_A tino plushie would be unsuitable for an empress to cuddle._

_Nonsense. An empress should have the right to decide what she likes to hug and what she doesn't._

"Unfortunately, Neinheart, I will have to agree. Moreover, the tino in Ereve are all healthy and safe to hug." The motherbird lets out a low chuckle and you can't help but chirp when she does. Her contentment is infectious. Shinsoo loves these two humans in ways you can't understand. But you're beginning to like them too. Ever since they started eating breakfast here you have realised that there is more to humans than elemental magic and dangerous weapons.

(The strawberries play an important role in your decision but nobody needs to know that. You doubt even Shinsoo knows. You are good at keeping secrets.)

_Objectively speaking, Ereve is the _only_ place you can find tino of any kind. They are a native species here and have been since hundreds of years ago._

"You know what I mean, Neinheart."

_You know what Shinsoo means, Neinheart. And objectively speaking, that doesn't stop me from hugging this tino._

You chirp. It feels like there is a need for agreement right about now.

And there is. The human hugging you laughs and squeezes you happily. She is so young and she is always smiling, though some days when she is alone without the man with sky hair or without the motherbird watching her, some days you see her cry.

_And this tino is really special to me. I can feel it._

_Aren't all tino the same, Empress? Or are you being overly sentimental again? _

You remember the first time you saw her cry. She was stunned at first, surprised, almost embarrassed. It wasn't the first time you've seen a human cry. Some of the weapon holders cry, when they hurt themselves or fall down on the ground and there is blood. But this human shouldn't cry.

You didn't like it when she cried. Still don't. But that day you'd regurgitated a worm for her and you'd made her laugh. She'd said something that sounded like _thank you, it's very kind of you_ but you still don't understand human speech today.

She didn't eat the worm. But the worm made her smile, at least. And she patted you and it felt nice.

_Of course I'm not being overly sentimental! I really believe it! Every life is precious. Each in its own unique way._

The man makes a noncommittal sound. _Even tino?_

_Even tino._

"That's very gracious of you, Empress. Not many adventurers will view tino that way."

_It's hard not to. I thought that at first. But let's just say a little bird reminded me that the world is beautiful in even the smallest of ways. And it reminded me of what I was fighting so hard to protect._

_I will eat my monocle the day a tino tells me what's precious and what's not. No, I'll eat my monocle the day a tino talks._

"You'll never know, Neinheart. Some tino are more eloquent than others."

The motherbird smiles at you and you chirp again. What's with all the attention, today? It's strange, but you could really get used to it.

Now is a good time for strawberries. Life is nothing without strawberries. Like the one the girl is offering you now.

It's made short work of. You let out a satisfied _peep_ and ruffle your feathers carefully as you settle down in her lap to doze in the warmth. When you yawn, the girl laughs again, and it makes the motherbird chuckle again, and that man lets out another grumble.

They'll be gone soon, after food is eaten and everything has been said. But they'll be back tomorrow. And you hope that doesn't change.

(More strawberries, please!)


	3. Wishes

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Tuesday, Jul 1 is "**Wishes**".

Written in 51 minutes.

_(Context: Korea Maplestory released some new data. Freud's diary/journal which he wrote after the Black Mage got sealed (so he didn't die in the fight!) and the ring he crafted to impart some power into the wearer. Google it for more information.)_

:

* * *

I am the last Hero.

.

One day this journal will serve not just as an outlet for a blip in time that should have died, but also as a written testament and memorandum for the efforts of the Heroes.

For now, let this journal record the continuing efforts of the forces that have pledged themselves to the forces of good.

Victoria Island has become the official land for refugees from all across the lands. It is evidence that we are capable of so much more. I am full of admiration for those who have made this possible: natives of Perion, for offering food and materials for new shelter; elves of the town they call Henesys, for offering expertise on homebuilding and defense efforts; pirates of the Nautilus fleet, for offering manpower and taking back the shores from the Black Wings.

_(There are smudges on the paper by sooty handprints.)_

As I speak there are scouting legions sent into the depths of unexplored forests in the hopes of finding another haven away from prying eyes from the sky.

Evil is still running rampant across the continent and it tears my heart into two to say it. We have severely underestimated the forces of the Black Wings, they have perforated every corner of the land and we are hard pressed to hold them back. It warms my heart when soldiers, still half-healed and reeling from the battle, will rise from their infirmary beds and defend their towns until their dying breath. There is still hope, amidst the ashes and the broken remnants of the empire that has been laid to waste.

.

I am fearful. Months have passed since the Black Mage's sealing. Yet darkness still looms on the horizon. It matters not to where I have travelled. The Black Mage's name has preceded me, as have the Black Wings' crooked acts.

I am always one step too late. The most I can do is heal the wounded, guide the fearful, and watch for any imminent signs of danger.

Sleep eludes me. I feel the temptation all the time, perpetually hovering on the edges of my vision. Yet, these days, when I close my eyes and I have to face the darkness again, alone, without Afrien's presence, I find myself _(many words are scratched out) _terrified.

People seem to be coping fine, but I know it is all a veneer. Men come to me with the rings around their eyes that match mine. They speak of night terrors, of hallucinations and irrational fear. Frail elders who have lost their sons and daughters in war seek refuge in words I find toxic to even think. And every night if you listen closely, you can hear a child, somewhere, crying for parents that will not come home.

Rumours are spreading that another war will come soon. There is no evidence to support these claims, but one can't help but doubt the value of truths in a time when good seems to have fallen and left the world in ruins.

.

It pains me. I am a Dragon Master by name, a scholar by trade, and a magician by upbringing. But my abilities are far from adequate. I am unable to construct anything beyond a basic seal or barrier. My theories are all intact, and I am certain my knowledge is not flawed for it has served me well in times before Afrien was sealed away.

Thus, after lengthy contemplation, I have come to my final decision. I will give up the final bit of my power for someone who can better use it. A Dragon Master without his dragon is no Hero at all.

It is just the remnant of my strength, but I am certain it will help at least one other soul with no corresponding half, sometime in history. It is my hope that this individual will be someone without a 'spirit partner' — for only a person with pure heart and good character can accept the power of an onyx dragon.

Let the someone who finds this bit of my power be of great moral standing, in his own right, and have faced the pain of losing something precious to them. The world is, after all, entombed in a curse, and needs to be restored.

Strength is gathered over time, after years of trial by fire. No gold can be forged without the flame, nor sword sharpened without steel.

.

I feel my time is running out once more.

In a time too long ago I was the one manipulating time. Rhine was generous and spared a fraction of her power to ensure the world would have a second chance.

The man who paused time is finally going to see the end of his own.

The thought should be reassuring, but it isn't.

People are happy, now. We have relearned the taste of joy. I only wish the other Heroes were here to rediscover it with me.

Perhaps my time would not seem so short, then.

.

We combined our powers to save the world, and fought hard we did. We shed blood, sweat, and tears. We gave our lives on the line, and then a little more. We gave up happy memories, our pasts, our futures, our selves for something we may never see the fruition of.

It wasn't perfect. In fact it was far from it. Everything that could've gone wrong, went wrong. Every step of the way there was a twist in our path. And despite all the effort we had put in, our plan was futile from the beginning. Perhaps we should have expected it. Perhaps _I_ should have. It was difficult to. Everyone was so full of hope. Radiant. Bursting with faith.

Some would say it was our downfall. I contend that it was what helped us achieve our goal. We have come so far, our ragtag bunch. We were once fond of spitfire arguments on sleepless nights, each unwilling to set aside personal matters for the greater good. We were no heroes, then.

But that day when we took up our fight and faced the Black Mage, we were well and truly Heroes.

And we were able to achieve our goal.

It is with bittersweet fondness I pen these words down. My quill has never been a greater enemy, nor my thoughts ever been this painful. For even I would never have imagined that one day, I would have been able to escape the curse that now enshrines you in ice.

I am the sole remnant of that bloody battle, the sole Hero who had managed to escape the curse. Afrien, that overly-protective Spirit Partner of mine, shielded me from the curse, and took the full blow of the magic on his battered frame. And so I could only watch as my friends, the Five — Aran, Mercedes, Phantom, and Luminous — slowly became living relics trapped in time.

I may live long enough for the ice to melt, or I may not. My heart tells me I will, yet my mind knows I will not. Despite all that, I will ensure that people do not forget you and your efforts, and that your names will echo throughout the ages to ring once more in an era where there will be peace.

_(Some of the words are washed out with only a faint outline remaining.)_

One day I will meet you all again. And we will share the good news and tales over tea and scones.

And until then, I will be content with memories of times long gone. An old man is easy to please.

_Vires acquirit eundo_, is it not? Strength is gathered as one goes.

Farewell, my friends. May this journal find you safely.

.

\- Freud the Dragon Master, one Hero made great in the midst of Five


	4. Water

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Wednesday, Jul 2 is "**Water**".

Written in 41 minutes. Second attempt for this prompt because the first version was really too unacceptable, by my standards. So here is version two!

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* * *

If there was one thing that Phantom was morbidly afraid of, it was the ocean.

It wasn't that he couldn't swim. It wasn't that there may be sharks or goby in the depths, waiting to drag him down. And while he was vain and worried about the kind of things that touched his skin, nothing in those waters worried him particularly much.

Except the traces of dreams that used to haunt him.

The heroes enjoyed going to Florina Beach every once in a while. Aran usually was the one suggesting it, the warrior of ice couldn't resist the opportunity to bask in the warmth of the sun, with the cold waves sneaking around their ankles and lapping at their heels.

Phantom would watch them from the shade of the treeline, listening to Mir and Evan laughing as they splashed about in the shallows, out of reach of the murky depths beyond. Luminous and Mercedes would be quietly tracing patterns in the sand, with the ocean's breathing and hungry whispers nothing but background noise. Aran would be sprawled out on the beach like a huge polar bear, turning her face to the light.

And away from the darkness that lurked just off the shore.

"I'm away from the waters," Phantom would say to reassure himself, "I can just turn away. It's not real. They're gone, and they're not coming back."

Oh, but they did. In his dreams they did. In his dreams, the waters reminded him that he hadn't been able to save them.

The waters reminded him about it with glimpses of color, brilliant gold hair or fierce crimson, appearing plaintively past the choppy foam.

"Can't you swim, Phantom? Or are you so afraid of the ocean that you have a huge _ship_ that can't touch the water?"

_Phantom hadn't been able to take a single step, then. Their voices lifted clearly over the crashing of the waves against each other. Water, everywhere, leaking into their throats and choking them and making their words quiver while thunder echoed up from the stormy depths._

"I'll have you know I can. Though I choose not to, my suits would be ruined if they can't be dried immediately."

_She'd never looked this afraid. Not even in the clutches of death. She was always that stoic, unbreakable woman Phantom so adored. Yet even from so far away her eyes were wide, cornflower blue rimmed red from the salt and tears. And her mouth opened and closed in a futile struggle for air. No empress ought to move this desperately, or this ungainly, but when one was drowning, what else was there to do?_

"Tch. You are always so vain and conceited, Master Thief. Are you of such high standing that you cannot join us on the beach? Or are you going to worry that even these tiny sand grains will worry the soles of your tailored shoes?"

_And he, even despite taking bloody wounds to the chest and dying with peace writ across his face while fires flickered around him, water was pulling his heavy robes down. He was struggling, a sobbing ruined mess that he shouldn't be because he was the calm to Phantom's stormy seas. _

"Don't look down on my shoes! They may be tailor-made but they can withstand the rocky outcrops of Mu Lung and while I sprint across roofs faster than the eye can follow. You'd love them if you tried them but I shan't lend them to you because you hurt their feelings."

_How was Phantom supposed to move? When a step in either direction would mean he was choosing one over the other, despite their being equally important to him? He couldn't choose, why did he have to choose, why was he made to choose? He wouldn't have left his ways of a scoundrel and learned to love the world if not for _her_, and he wouldn't have left his past behind him and learned to love himself if not for _him. _They were both a part of him, in ways no ocean could make him declare._

"Oh, lighten up, Phantom. It's just a harmless dip in the sea. You're always so edgy when we come. For absolutely no reason! Everyone's having fun and you're ruining it all."

_What else was Phantom supposed to do, but watch the waters recede from the shore? He ran after the ebbing waves, blinded by the rain streaking into his eyes as the oceans of the heavens rained down on him from above, punishing him in its own way. Chiding him for being weak, indecisive — so weak that they were going to die and it was, as it had always been, his fault._

"I didn't want to be here. I was perfectly happy waiting on board the Lumiere until your return."

_He ran and ran until even the skies themselves were as dark and impenetrable as the seas themselves. And they would call out to him, "Phantom! Save me! Please!" and he would scream in reply, "I don't know how—" and he never ever knew what he was going to say next because he would be on his knees, a hoarse cry of helplessness shredding his throat apart, as the darkness surged up against them. _

_And then they would be gone._

"Master Phantom? Are you alright, Master Phantom? Did you have another nightmare? Miss Marianne alerted me to your shouting and I came in without knocking first."

"What in the gods—"

"Here. Have some tea. Careful."

"Thank… thank you, Gaston. Transcendents. The nightmares are getting worse."

"What did you dream of?"

"The same thing. It's always the same thing."

"I see."

"I'm so tired, Gaston."

"Why don't you take a nap on the deck, sir? The fresh air might do you good."

"There's no time. They're going to the beach again. I'm already late as it is."

"I will pack a thermos of tea for your lunch, Master Phantom."

"Much appreciated, Gaston. Tell Renault to change the course at once."

"For the record, sir, I hear Freud used to swim in the stillwater pools of Leafre with his dragon, and the late Empress was rumoured to have snuck off for a late night swim in the lakes at the edges of Ereve."

"Oceans are nothing like rivers or lakes. They have currents, they are dark and cold and you can die of hypothermia even if you're a brilliant swimmer."

"Tell your dream to change its course, then."

"In dreams, water is still water. Nothing will change even if I wanted it to."


	5. Play with me!

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Thursday, Jul 3 is "**Play with me**".

Written in 60 minutes. I was loathe to finish it. This was really fun to write. I had a starting paragraph at the beginning but I took it out at the very last minute because it didn't fit the overall theme of the piece.

:

* * *

"Play with me."

"Alright. I used to play with my tribe, though we played a variation of it. I'm not too sure I could remember the rules."

"You mean Su-Bing Chess? It's pretty much the same. Hmm, your Bear pieces are our rooks, and rooks can move any number of squares. Penguins are our pawns which capture diagonally. And Wolf pieces are our bishops."

"Well learned, Freud. Very well. I shall give this a shot, though I have never been too adept at the game."

_Tik. Tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"You're… hmm."

"Take your time, Aran."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"This is frustrating."

"Keep calm."

_Tik, tik._

"Easier said than done."

_Tik, tik._

"Checkmate."

"Wait… wait. Huh?"

"Here. My knight —"

"I see it. Well played."

"Again?"

"I'm sorry, Freud. Maha is calling me."

"Pity. Perhaps another day then?"

"… Yes… Perhaps."

\- : -

"Play with me."

"Oh? A human challenging the greatest elven chessplayer in the whole of Elluel? I would love to tango with you, Freud."

"I am honored."

"Play carefully, Mercedes."

"Oh, Aran. Don't worry. I've had plenty a scuffle with my advisors and I very rarely lose. In fact it's my favorite pastime, befitting for royalty the likes of me."

"…"

"Watch and learn, snowy human."

"I will learn from you too, Mercedes. I look forward to learning a new trick or two."

_Tik tik tik tik tik, tik tik, tik tik, tik tik, tik tik, tik tik, tik tik._

"You're good, Freud."

_Tik tik, tik tik. _

"So are you, Mercedes."

"Oh. Nicely played. I didn't see that."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"Check."

"Interesting, interesting. But you're not going to get me that easily."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

"Huh."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

"… Gods damn it, Freud."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

"I told you to play carefully."

"Human. I can see that I'm in a pinch. Keep your mouth shut."

"Your move, Mercedes."

"Can I forfeit?"

"It won't be befitting of your elven royalty to leave issues have resolved, my lady."

"Two days into my joining your side and you're already pressing me into a corner."

"I wouldn't dream of it. This is merely a harmless tango on a chessboard."

_Tik, tik._

"Checkmate."

"That was…"

"Too fast for me to follow. I prefer Su-Bing chess."

"I apologise for moving my pieces faster than your human mind can register."

"Not for me. Play again?"

"Even as enlightening as that was, I'd rather not."

"Oh. Pity."

\- : -

"Play with me."

"Oh, the world's brightest scholar asking to play a game with me? Why, I would be most honored to."

"I've already set the board up —"

"But you're missing two pieces. Here."

"You're lucky I have the patience to deal with your piece-pinching ways. The other heroes won't tolerate your trigger-happy mannerisms, and you wouldn't want to get on their bad side a day after they agreed to look the other way."

"Pish posh. I could easily return the pieces like I did to you, see? A learned man as myself knows the value of good manners."

"A learned man as yourself would appreciate a good spin, then."

"Indeed. I'll be gracious too. Please, you go first."

"Why, thank you, Phantom."

_Tik._

"You're most welcome, Freud. White or black matters not to me."

_Tik. Tik._

"Of course. Spoken like a true chessmaster."

"I am a Master of many things…" _Tik. Tik. _"… not only of stealing and pinching jewelry from under noble's very gazes."

"I wouldn't doubt that. Your move."

_Tik, tik._

"Hmm. You're quite adept at this."

"I'm honored, Phantom. It's my favorite game —" _Tik tik._ "— the sport of kings, no?"

"Do you even _think_ after I've made a move?"

"Of course. Chess is half about thinking and half about —" _Tik tik._ "— predicting your opponent's moves."

"… Admittedly, this is unnerving."

"Should I play slower, then?"

"Even though I am a ruffian, I am bright enough to function well enough without a handicap, thank you."

"I didn't mean it that —" _Tik tik._ "— way, Phantom. I just wanted to make sure —" _Tik tik. _"— we both could play comfortably without either of us —" _Tik tik._ "— being uncomfortable —" _Tik tik_. "— for the duration —" _Tik tik. _"— of the match."

"You're infuriating."

"I apologise."

_Tik, clatter._

"Oh, silly me. Let me put them back—"

"I'm missing a pawn, Phantom. And a knight."

"Of course you aren't."

"My rook was here, and my queen was here. And my pawns here, and here."

"Gods." _Clatter._ "Have your chess pieces. I have enough of this. This is impossible."

"Pity. You're going to admit defeat to me, Master Thief?"

"As much as I love challenges and hate backing down from a fight, I'm afraid you force my hand. This is not one battle I'm willing to stick my neck into. Good day, scholar Freud."

\- : -

"Play with me."

"Phantom has told me horror stories of your exploits."

"I thought you don't believe a word the thief says."

"I have reason to believe his tall tales when even Mercedes and Aran are telling me stories running along the same vein."

"Surely a quick game won't hurt."

"When everyone's tales are so tall that they are impossible to believe, yet are consistent all the time, I will have to decline for fear of mental damage."

"Don't play with him stuffy pants!"

"Please get your thief out my study."

"I will if you play a game with me."

"Oh, stuffy pants. You wound me to the quick."

"Can I call a truce with you, Phantom? I will be civil to you for a day and you do the same for me."

"Oh, you two can't be serious."

"Deal. I'm gracious enough to spare you from Freud's horrifying skills."

"Thank you, Master Thief."

"You both are incorrigible."

\- : -

"Play with me."

"Okay."

_Tik, tik._

_Tik, tik. _

_Tik, tik._

"I'm surprised, Eun Wol. Haven't you heard the tales?"

"I have." _Tik, tik._ "But that doesn't change anything."

_Tik, tik._

"Thank gods. I was going crazy without anyone to play with."

"I'll play."

_Tik, tik._

"You're going to lose. Very badly. Now I can't help but feel —" _Tik, tik._ "— guilty for traumatizing the rest of the heroes."

_Tik, tik._

"It's alright with me."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

_Tik, tik._

"Checkmate."

"That was fast."

"Play again?"

"Okay."

"Gods, where have you been all my life?"

"You're an addict."

"I know." _Tik, tik. _"Help me, Eun."

"You're beyond saving."

\- : -

"Play with me. Freud. Freud? Freud!"

"Eun. Hello. I beg your pardon, I didn't hear you the first time."

"Play with me."

"I have a report due in an hour —"

"I'll set up the chessboard."

"Please don't tempt me."

"You can take white this time."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. It's your move."

"I really don't have the time for this. Everything is going haywire and all my plans are going awry —"

"Your move."

_Sigh. Tik._

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

_Tik, tik._

"No."

_Tik, tik. _

_Tik, tik. _

_Tik, tik._

"Mind on the game, Freud."

_Tik, tik._

_Tik, tik._

"That's the second piece you've lost. I'm going to check you if you move it there."

_Tik._

"Oh. Right. Right, okay. I'll move here instead."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"You're not focusing."

"I'm trying very hard, Eun." _Tik, tik. _"But it's difficult to when —"

_Tik._

"Check."

"Oh!"

"Focus, Freud."

"Hm."

"You're not going to lose for the first time in years, are you?"

"Most definitely not."

_Tik, tik._

"Check."

"Two checks, Eun. I'm impressed."

"I'm not winning. You're losing."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"Check."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"Check."

"That was my trick!"

"I learn fast, Freud. Happens when I play so many times with you."

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"You won't get away with that."

_Tik, tik. Tik tik. Tik tik. Tik tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"Hmm."

"How's that?"

_Tik, tik. Tik, tik. Tik, tik._

"Checkmate."

"Oh."

"That was the most intense game I've played in a long time."

"… Closest I'll ever get to winning."

"Thank you, Eun Wol."

"Any time."

"Again?"

"Do your report."

"Ahh. Pity!"


	6. High School Heist

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Friday, Jul 4 is "**High School**".

Written in 60 minutes. Had fun with this one!

Alternative title: **High School Heist**

:

* * *

Freud cracked his knuckles, glancing over the myriad of monitors flashing around him. The security guard always abandoned his post for breakfast when he thought nobody was looking, but thanks to Phantom and Eun, they had. Now his many laptops were all connected to the school's closed circuit cameras.

Just some minor tweaking for him to emulate the controls of the security guard's keyboard, mirroring the signal perfectly, and he was set to go.

"Alright. I'm almost ready. Everyone, report."

"Heroes. We're called the Heroes. So it's _Heroes report_."

Freud sighed quietly while everyone else let out long-suffering groans. "You can't see me now, Phantom, but I'm rolling my eyes in exasperation."

"We agreed to call ourselves the Heroes, or Operation Pizzaz is off."

"Alright, alright. Heroes." Freud sighed again, louder. He adjusted his bluetooth headset, tapping slightly. Signal was a little strained in the computer labs. "Heroes report."

"Corvidae in position," barked Phantom immediately.

"Luminous and Mercedes all set for Phase One."

"All ready."

From the furthest corner, the snowy head prefect and the Elven princess waved quickly at him before pretending to strike up animated conversation. They were waving to a camera, no doubt.

"Gods damn it. You're Sparkleshine and Mercedes is Unicorn Princess. Keep to the code names, will you?"

"Shut up, Corvidae."

"See, was that so hard Sparkleshine? Roger that."

"Luminous and —"

"Use the _gods damned code names!"_

"Shut up, Phantom. You two just ease over to your eight o'clock so you're in the middle of my vision."

The two students inconspicuously moved further to the middle of the corridors.

"Prefects are all on standby," reported Luminous. He, like all the other Heroes, all wore a little bluetooth headset. "Moved their patrol shifts so none would overlap with the line of action."

"Copy that." Freud angled his camera until he was satisfied with a clear shot of the two from the corner. "Alright. Aran, er, Frostbite. Report."

"I'm ready." Aran winked at the camera, her long ponytail swishing as she peered at a vending machine, grumbling in frustration.

"Great. Hold on." Another few adjustments. "Will it fit in the shot? My field of vision extends to the lockers over there."

"It should."

"Roger that. Come in, Little Dragon."

"I don't like my code name." Evan sulked furiously. He shook a bottle of lemonade at the camera, scowling. "Hear that, Corvidae? Everyone gets such a good name."

"I'm Big Dragon. Not much better. Now move over to the other side of the corridors."

"Beside the staff rooms?"

"Yup. Move over. A little more. Great."

"Why can't we just stick to our proper names?"

"The human kid has the right idea. I dislike being called Unicorn. Why not Stag?"

"Stag's a male animal. And besides, where's the fun in that, hmm? Even I get bored of stealing too sometimes. No heist is good without some good roleplay."

"No heist is good without the prize. Everyone quiet down. Silver Fox?"

Silence. And Freud couldn't see him in the crowded cafeteria.

"Come in, Silver Fox."

"Didn't all the earpieces work, Master Thief? Was the connection faulty?"

"We tested them together, stuffy Sparkleshine. Just shut up and hold on."

"Eun, are you there?"

"Yup. In position." Eun stretched, raising his hands, and only then did Freud see him. He really had an affinity for blending in with the crowd, hidden from sight. "I refuse to be called a fox. I'd rather be known as Hidden Moon, which is a better code name."

"It's practically your name!" Freud winced as Phantom's voice shrieked into his ear.

"Phantom shut the hell up."

"No way! You guys are ruining all the fun! And I'm Corvidae, not Phantom! What if our identities are compromised?"

"Over this? No way."

From the corner of his eye, Freud caught sight of a man walking down the hallways. He swivelled in his chair and squinted at it. Really, the school needed to upgrade their infrastructure. This made for bad surveillance.

A man with wavy locks of pale hair and a fine suit. It had to be him. "Operation Pizzaz is a go, people. Lux is on the move. Mercedes, your cue."

As the headmaster strolled down the hallways from his office, Mercedes immediately started shouting at the top of her voice.

"And what do you think you're doing, human?"

"You are breaking the rules. Even if you are the Elven Princess, I cannot allow that to happen."

"Yeah? Well back in Elluel we didn't have any issue with people carrying food back to class."

Freud chuckled at the irony and watched the two bicker. Mercedes was crowding Luminous into the wall, in plain sight of the headmaster, as students began to gather. The headmaster immediately gravitated towards the squabble, but they didn't break it up. Perfect.

"Alright. Lux is occupied for now."

"Discipline master sighted. Heading towards intersection."

"Roger that Pha—" Phantom coughed hard and Freud groaned. "— Corvidae. Yes. I see him." Arkarium strode down the corridors at the other side of school, a spindly frame with a toupee. If only Phantom was stationed here to snatch it off his head.

"Aran. Your cue. In three, two, one—"

With a well timed kick, the vending machine Aran was standing beside listed precariously on its edge and nearly toppled over onto the oncoming man. The man jumped, but Freud knew that Aran had it under control. And indeed she did. With her toe, she pulled the metal back and it settled back at its original spot with a groan loud enough to be picked up by Aran's mike.

"Wish me luck, Freud."

Arkarium was yelling and stalking angrily towards her.

"Good luck. Meet you at the rendezvous point in fifteen minutes."

Freud turned his attention to another monitor. Back at the hall monitor, Mercedes was getting increasingly upset, much to the chagrin of the headmaster who was clearly trying to placate her.

"No, I will not calm down! Wait until my advisors hear about this! I agreed to do a transfer because Superintendent Aria requested me to! I could easily go back to Elluel High School — No! You listen to me, Principal! I don't care if you're sorry! You change the rules for me right now!"

Fierce. Freud snickered. Oh well, Mercedes was just throwing her weight around for fun. "Corvidae. You're up."

In the throng of students still slowly oozing, gathering around the squabble, a fluid figure of white threaded his way to the front. He only brushed past the headmaster, the contact didn't even last a second, and Phantom was striding away again.

"Did you get it?"

"Of course, Big Dragon. Of course I did." Phantom strode out of view of the first camera, past the second, and then the third along a quiet stretch of corridor, where he held up an access card.

"Fantastic." Freud glanced at Evan, who was nervously twitching at the door. "Ready, Evan?"

"Little Dragon," emphasized Phantom.

"As ready as I'll ever be to burst into tears like a wimp." Evan grumbled.

The freshman dribbled some of the lemonade into his palms and rubbed them into his eyes.

"I really wish there was another way," murmured Freud apologetically.

Evan groaned. "It _smarts!_ You'd better keep to your word and tutor me for math!"

"Will do."

And Evan burst into tears. Piteous cries that were so loud Freud had to remind himself the volume settings didn't auto-calibrate themselves via inputs. His heart twisted, once upon a time he heard those same cries when Evan was being bullied out in the schoolyard. But that wouldn't happen any more, he was with the Heroes — but it could still attract lots of attention.

The door to the staff room burst open. Physical Education teacher Magnus strode out, his whistle around his neck, followed shortly by the head of the Science department, Hilla. Their hair was frazzled, and Hilla was urgently doing up the buttons of her lab coat. Were they making out?

"Looks like I have blackmail material," grinned Freud. He left the two teachers to fuss over Evan, who was blubbering about being bullied and having his lunch money taken, as he pulled up a recording of the CCTVs of the staff room.

"What is it?"

"Our rumoured One True Pairing furiously making out in the staff room — oh. _Oh. Oh gods_."

"What? What?" Phantom's voice was so piercing. He'd have to do something about that.

"Nothing." Freud hurriedly closed the window, but saved it to his harddrive and encrypted it. Waste not, want not. Even if his eyes were seared for it.

"Aw man, come on Freud —"

"Is the package with Silver Fox?"

"I don't dawdle. Gave it long ago."

"I'm in position." Eun was just around the corner, waiting patiently.

"Just one more."

They'd chosen the day where the rest of the staff had a conference. Thankfully it was just before the final grades and discipline records were keyed in. Just one more teacher to wait for.

"Finally." Another teacher joined them. Von Leon, the bulky teacher who seemed to be too crass to teach Literature, poked his head out of the door at Evan before coming out. "Eun. Your cue. Go."

Calmly, Eun strode towards the staff room, weaving right under the nose of Von Leon, so calmly and smoothly like he had every right to be there that none of the teachers sensed anything awry.

"I can't stop crying! What am I supposed to do?" wailed Evan. That was the cue, the boy couldn't cry for much longer.

Yes, they had rehearsed it before.

"One minute. Quickly, Eun."

From his vantage point of the staff cameras, Freud watched Eun break into a sprint and plug a little thumbdrive into a computer on standby.

The monitor appeared on Freud's waiting laptop.

"Beautiful. Alright. Ten seconds and I should — Oh." The screen clicked open, the login screen falling away to reveal a huge portrait of Magnus's face. "_Oh. Ugh_. Hilla's laptop."

"Less noises, more hacking." Phantom groaned. "Hurry."

Eun waited impatiently, glancing every so often at the door, while Freud tapped at his keyboard. He wormed his way into the main systems, leafing through the thousands of names.

Aran, Evan, Eun Wol, Freud…

"Halfway there."

… Luminous, Mercedes, Phantom.

"Got it. Eject."

Eun pulled the thumbdrive out the jack, leaving Lux's keycard on Hilla's table, and strolled calmly past Von Leon who barely even glanced at him in passing.

Freud sank back in his chair as his monitor turned black again.

The deed done, and their report cards clear of any suspicious activity that might hint at a common occurrence of skipping school on the same day. The days where they were absent were reshuffled. Their grades upped slightly, to prevent them from needing remedial classes. Not that Freud needed it — nor any of the other Heroes. Just that some of the classes they took had an attendance component.

"Pizza party!"

The door opened, and Phantom was at the door, grinning from ear to ear, holding three boxes of pizza in one hand.

"Operation Pizzaz is a success!"

"Phantom, where did you get those?" Freud glanced at the monitors, watching the last of the drama unfold. Luminous was bowing in apology to Mercedes, who was acting gracious enough to let it slide. And Aran was pouting, something very uncharacteristic of her (and didn't suit her at all, Freud thought) but it worked on the reedy old man and he let her go. Evan was wiping his nose as he smiled as bravely as he could.

"Stole them from the conference."

"They smell great."

"I want a whole box to myself for crying so hard."

"Thank you for doing that, Evan. Otherwise I wouldn't have had enough time."

"Well, we all deserve a treat once in a while. What with all the moonlighting we've been doing."

"Tiring. I wish we could just quit."

"Ah, but we're called the Heroes for a reason."

Silence.

"You know. Because we moonlight as Heroes. We save the world, no?"

There was a unanimous "Shut up, Phantom" that arose.

And then no more was allowed to be said as they all tucked into the food after a job well done.


	7. An Old Ariant Tale

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Saturday, Jul 5 is "**Thirst**".

Written in 70 minutes (I FAILED IM SORRY but I'm not sorry) because I was struggling with the last sentence which took me 15 minutes to think of.

Alternative title: **An Old Ariant Tale**

:

* * *

Once upon a time in a faraway desert, there lived a boy. The boy had no name, no friends, no parents, no home to call his own. He was small and thin, his arms and legs brittle, like dried branches, and he was often so dirty people would cross the street rather than go near him. He had hair like bleached sand, dry and roughly matted. He had eyes that were beautiful, like thoroughly refined lithium, but nobody dared to look into them because they said it was like looking into the eyes of the dead.

Sometimes, he would lie by the side of the main road, eyes closed, in sleep or death nobody knew. Nobody thought to find out. They talked about wanting to chase him off into the wilderness because that was the way he appeared — as a withered corpse staggering into Ariant barefooted, as if the burning sands did not bother him in the least.

The town was not cruel to him alone. Ariant was known for its sumptuously wealthy, and known equally in part for its dismally impoverished. The boy found his place amongst the latter, sitting by the roadside, begging for food and water with rasping croaks of a voice dried out and cracked by the cruel heat of the Nihalian sun.

He was a boy with skin so pale that he looked never to have stepped foot in any light before; yet he was marred all over with hairline scars from nights of sleeping on streets of coarse gravel, and his lost, forlorn face caked with so much dust and grime that he seemed to never have seen the care of a mother's hand. The beggars who found him piteous gave him what little they could afford to spare. The nobles who found him pretty gave him scraps sometimes, if he came over to their feet when they were eating at a stall on the roadside.

The boy ate so wolfishly he might choke, and drank so fast he might drown. Every meal seemed to be his last. For all his meagre years he knew the value of every grain of rice, every morsel of bread, every sinew of meat. He stayed the same size for years, kept little by nights of punishing cold and days of tortuous hunger.

The boy lived as though he was dying, though nobody doubted that he had died a long time ago.

One day, when the sun was particularly scorching and the vendors had fled to the shelter of whatever little shade they could find, the boy found himself staring at finely polished boots, the finest he had ever seen. The face staring back at him from the shiny surface was thin, gaunt, bereft, and so darkly shadowed that he wondered if he had died and gone to hell.

"What're you doing here, boy?" The sound of the man's voice shocked him. It was silky like cold, clean water, yet rich like warm stew with meat left behind.

The boy looked up, the sun burning a silhouette of a bird's angular beak into his vision. He did not bother with the man's name, nor with even thinking about an answer.

"Water," gasped the boy. His throat hurt with the effort, his tongue so thick he was surprised the man even heard him right the first time.

The man knelt down in front of him. The boy stared into the bird's face and realised he was staring into a mask. Behind the mask glittered two jewels so vivid the boy found himself wanting to get lost in them. They were colors the boy knew he would find in the depths of an oasis, framed perfectly by luscious palm trees, cool and refreshing and quenching.

"You will do," the man said. What for, or why, the boy could not care less. He wrapped his fingers around the canteen the man held up, tilted it to his lips, and drank. He waited for the man to snatch it away and yell about the overpriced cost of water, like all the nobles did, but the slap to his face did not come even after the boy felt the life-giving fluid turn to a trickle and then a drop and then cease.

By the time the boy had finished, the man was gone.

For the first time in his waking memory, the boy wondered what the man wanted of him. He stowed the canteen in his corner, in the pile of rags and bottle caps and shards of worthless lithium. The boy never threw anything away.

And neither did the man. The next day the man was back, clothed richly in heavy robes of black darker than the nights when stars did not shine, as if the cruel heat of the sun did not bother him in the slightest.

The boy looked up, but the man's face was veiled in the shadow, out of unforgiving light.

"Water," begged the boy once more.

The man knelt by his side. The boy awaited a second canteen, looking up at the man's face, but received nothing.

Instead, the man pointed. The boy looked. The square was crowded, people jostling each other amidst hearty bartering and haggling.

The man leaned in closer to his ear. His voice was a mere whisper, a drizzle, the last vestiges of spring rain, as the man spoke of more food than the boy could eat, more water than the boy needed to drown in. "And I will show you how to get it."

The boy blinked against the light as the man pulled away, taking his shadow with him. Silently, the man ghosted past the edge of the throng and the boy saw the man's hand, moving so quickly he might have believed he was seeing things, and lifting a purse out of a overloaded pocket.

The man moved like water.

The boy felt something tug at his lips as the man pretended to stumble and brush up against the woman, sliding her purse into his robe as he muttered sweet apologies at her. He caught a glimpse of purest ocean currents in the shadow of his mask before the man had turned, and then his gaze was caught by a glimmer of another coin in the swift turn of the man's palm.

"Water," croaked the boy, tugging on a noble's trouser leg. The noble glanced at him, muttering in slight disgust and waving him off, and the boy pretended to fall to the ground in terror as if trying to dodge a blow to his head.

As the lady turned to him, full distaste upon her painted lips and eyes, he snuck a hand around her ankle, undid the clasp of her anklet, and palmed the slender chain. He covered his mouth to stifle a sob and slid the jewelry under his tongue, and when the lady took pity and gave him the last of the fruit slices in her hand, the boy caught sight of the man swooping in behind her and lifting her wallet from her coat.

"You learn fast," said the man, when night had fallen and the boy was wrapped up in the man's thick cloak.

The boy found his eyelids drooping, full of warm soup on the inside and saddled in velvety heat on the outside, even though the stars were not out and the heat was falling faster than the light had faded.

"What's your name, boy?"

The boy didn't know, he'd never had one.

The man told the boy he would take him in and teach him more, and promised that one day the boy would become a master great enough to make a name for himself.

The boy let the man pick him up and stole for the second time in his life — furtive glances into the man's eyes.

He should have realised that he could never steal from the man, for the man sensed the boy's stare and obliged the boy by meeting his gaze. He fell forward into deepest oasis blue and drank, never realising he had always been thirsty.

And the boy, with his hair like sand and eyes like dead lithium, was never seen again.


	8. The Master of Dragons

For the Maple_60mins challenge on twitter!

Theme for Sunday, Oct 19 is "**Past**".

Written in 59 minutes.

Inspired by Hitsuji's ( Hitsuji on twitter) comic which featured the second-to-last scene in this fic. And I got _encouraged_ to write this... so... yeah. /nervous sweating

Anyway school is in full swing, as you have probably already noticed. I can't believe I even have time to write this at all (I'm going to pay for this tomorrow).

Alternative title: **The Master of Dragons**

:

* * *

Magnus's last memory had been of Leafre forest. It'd been all fire and smoke, howls and shrieks of the Spectres under his charge, the scent of other dragons leading him further and further into the undergrowth. After all, a snobbish spider king had implicated, rather carelessly, that Magnus wouldn't so much as stand a minute against the power of an Onyx Dragon in its prime. Where else to test it then, except in Will's mirror world?

Magnus had triumphed. Pitching a Novan against a mere dragon, one still slightly quadrupled in form — what was Will even thinking? Even at a shadow of his former glory Magnus easily slew the great king. It wasn't even a challenge. It hadn't even been fun.

He was about to lop off that great horned head, bring the unmarked midnight skull back as a trophy, if Will's dimension permitted — Magnus had gone to great lengths to make sure not a single scale on the dragon's muzzle was damaged in battle — when he was struck with a foreign bolt of magic, and his world had turned black.

And now, he was here.

In a human's mercy.

Once his world focused, Magnus found himself before a red robed magician. This magician, so disturbingly pale that it seemed the sun didn't ever grace his skin, with eyes that were as bleak as an ocean reflecting an overcast sky, was unexpected. Will hadn't mentioned anything about this magician, only warned him about the Twins and the other oracles of Time, reminding him over and over to stay away.

Magnus was amused, not because he had fallen to the mage's magic — he'd let his guard down for a moment, nothing more. He could smell the mage's strength and extent of his power; he could easily break through if he wished. No prey too difficult, merely a different source of power that rivalled that of the Onyx King's.

He was amused because his power far surpassed the mage's, but he could not break free from the magical bonds encircling his wrists and ankles.

"Good job taking me down," Magnus raised his head to level a grin at the mage. A chilling grin, a soulless grin, one full of challenge and scorn. "Is it too impolite of me to know why you're keeping me strung up and on display?"

The Novans had hated when he smiled. He was expecting the man to cringe as they had. But the magician's gaze merely grew more perplexed.

"What are you?" the man's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The taste of fresh, unhealed sorrow in his words belied the magician's inflectionless speech.

Magnus sneered. There was no secret that any human could hide from him. Novan senses were far superior, could taste a threat seconds before it was uttered. And this man was a broken, delicious mess beneath his calm exterior.

"I apologise for the death of what must be your friends," the Novan purred easily, opting to answer the question of morality rather than the race he belonged to. He relished the twinge of pain that ran through the mage's already frail body. "I was merely having a bit of fun and didn't mean to intrude."

The mage blinked, surprised, before he smiled, and it was frayed along the edges.

"I apologise. I forget my manners." The magician hefted his staff. Magnus's gaze was drawn to the space in the crystal ring fitted at its top. He resisted the urge to seethe — the magician had knocked him out with an incomplete weapon? "My name is Freud. What might yours be?"

"Names hold power, little human. It would be wise of you not to divulge yours this easily."

The human called Freud shrugged. "No loss of power I cannot cope with."

Magnus laughed. "You have gall, challenging a former Novan king."

"A dragon king?" Freud was doing a fantastic job masking the hurt his words must have caused, ruthless pressure on a deep wound. "You're willing to divulge your position of power, but not your name?"

"You have more use for that than my name, no?" Of course the magician did. These scholarly types, Will or Freud or even that serpentine geezer Arkarium, all hoarded information the same way — Magnus, like Freud, didn't fear the loss of this information.

"Half dragon, then?" Freud drummed fingers along the shaft of his weapon contemplatively. A smirk curled Freud's lips. "Just how did one of your human ancestors mix up a dragon for a human mate?"

"We are a race of our own, ignorant human." Magnus snarled, baring fangs. "Human blood in our lineage would be an insult."

Freud thought for a moment, and then laughed. The sound woke some growling instinct inside him, one that coiled all the way down to the tip of his tail, the fibres of his wings, drew up a bubbling spring of rage.

"Ironic though," chuckled Freud, mock wiping tears in his eyes, "Your dragon ancestors tried to mimic human form. Humans are superior to you race, then? Since you shed your dragon-like muscle for our flabby, less desirable fat and upright form?"

"We are not mere _dragon_, as I have casually shown earlier. I was about to take the Onyx King's head when you stepped in." Magnus growled and Freud was actually startled at the guttural roll of his voice. "We are more than human. We have transcended the dimensions separating your mortal realm and ours. We are not dragon — we are _more_ than. We are past the need for —"

"Good."

Magnus felt the words shrivel in his mouth.

What was this aura…? Another dragon?

The room was empty, only rows upon rows of glass vials, colored potions, books — nothing unfamiliar, Will had those as well. No dragon that could hide in this cluttered, dark room could be strong enough to exude that kind of power.

No, this was something more than that. His gaze snapped back to the magician, who had rage clouding over his clear irises, turning them dark and choppy, a thunderstorm whipping up the waves. Magnus recognised the gaze of a dragon, waking up from centuries of slumber, hungry and savage, its carnal urges impossible to reason with.

This dragon was coiling around his neck, suffocating him, rendering him speechless. It was driving all thought from his mind, leaving static equal to the warning rumbles of a dragon with a patience at its end.

"Today, I was scheduled to make a pact with the Onyx Dragons to ensure peace, you murderer." Freud's words were barbed shards of ice, they sent a shiver through him. "To ensure peace, I will have to put you in your place."

"Just try," he gritted out.

"You already know my power is not ordinary."

The mage walked forward, each step as measured as the last, red robes billowing as he stalked past Magnus's fang, his midnight sword and its alarmed glow.

"Afrien, the King of the Onyx Dragons, likened me to a dragon master." Freud came to a halt in front of him. It wasn't sorrow or hurt in his eyes any longer, but pity — and Magnus had never seen anything like it. "He was half my soul, and as such I will fulfill the destiny he foresaw on my behalf. A master of dragons I will be."

_We are more than dragon_, some part of Magnus's mind screamed in protest, but no words came.

Freud lifted his head gently with his staff, and Magnus found it impossible to resist.

The man was smiling.

"I look forward to working with you."

.

Will tapped his fingers. Great. He'd looked away from the scrying mirror just for a minute. Maximus was screeching about something and how could he ignore his favorite pet spider? After that he'd returned and Magnus was gone.

Leafre was still in shambles, a blaze of charred trunks and leaves, and nothing more.

Some stray thought occurred to him. Dragons were dragons, after all, whether they were Novan or not… he shifted his focus to Afrien's cave — empty. Focussed on the nesting ground — not even an egg remained. Focussed on Freud's abode — and it was empty, except a single slit in the ground, the perfect width of a Novan's mighty sword.

He burst out laughing.

Looks like the Novan had gotten more than he bargained for out of the past that didn't really exist.

Good riddance to that loud-mouthed, cocky reptile. Couldn't hurt to give himself many long moments trying to imagine how the half-breed would look like with a dragon master's insignia printed on his forehead.


End file.
